


Gilded Cages

by EmilyDragonette



Series: The Dragon Princess [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragons, Memories, Original Character(s), Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:44:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9383489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyDragonette/pseuds/EmilyDragonette
Summary: In a world of mortals, a dragon has no place on the ground.She saved a world of those who had seen her slain, and for what? A broken heart? One less arm?He called her his heart, though deep down in her own she knew. The fear that lay hidden in his eyes would never fade, but she would make it flicker to life in a way the Dread Wolf would never forget.That was her promise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting something on the Archive, so I could really use constructive criticism! I'll eventually get around to writing a full story about Valentine and her adventure, but until then I'll release small bits and pieces of her journey.

The pitter patter of rain outside was comforting, despite everything that had happened. The steady tapping of the rain drops on my roof was unsettling, yet comforting. I didn't know how to feel about something so simple in my life of no simplicities. Even love had been destructive to my health.  
I shuddered at the memories I could never forget—for many reasons—and tried not to go back to sleep. That was where the nightmares lay. That was where he would be, with a gaze so haunting it drove even my smiles of sunshine away. Those grey-blue eyes that mimicked the sea my tattered ship struggled to sail through. Even now, an end to that storm seemed far away. It left me feeling solemn and quiet, something that was unlike me.  
“Are you alright?” Asked a friendly voice. My diamond shaped pupils—the equivalent of a snake’s—slit, quickly becoming accustomed to the night and locking on another, brighter, pair of eyes. Bright blue with a twinge of arrogance.  
Hawke.  
“I’m alright Edward.” I mumbled, but I knew he had heard my waking. He always heard.  
“Solas again?” He inquired as I shuffled out of bed and toward the mirror that hung on my wall. I felt lopsided from the missing weight of my arm, and it was a struggle to not lean on my left side. The same wolf had been there, watching me as I explored the fade. Seeing him, even from a distance, had been overwhelming. My memories of him were still so fresh, so perfect, and so heart-wrenching I couldn't help but long for him. I reached out—for what felt like the hundredth time—and he simply disappeared, forcing me unwillingly from the fade. The heartbreak had settled in once more, leaving this old beast to lick her wounds once more.  
I nodded halfheartedly, snapping my fingers and lighting a candle as I stared at the reflection etched into the clear spotless surface. Same me. Nothing changed.  
Same golden sun-kissed skin, marred on the shoulders and forearms from years of training with my father—who might not have been proud to see my present state if he were still alive. Short, layered chocolaty-brown hair framed around my face, sticking into all sorts of directions from the hour-and-a-half of sleep I had managed. My brilliant green eyes were dulled, and had been like that since the final kiss from him in front of the Eluvian. I could still feel his soft lips against mine, wanting, wishing, and yet…  
And yet..  
He pulled away, and left me without my arm. He was my soul-mate, and I had known it from the moment he first grabbed my wrist and thrust it toward that first rift in the first ray of hope for bringing peace.  
“I’m sure that me and Varric could find something to help you sleep.” Edward said as he came to my side, his blonde hair and baby blue eyes gleaming even in the darkness. His pale skin practically glowed as he gave me a sad, understanding look. He had faced heartbreak as well, from what I’d heard.  
I was in Kirkwall now, living in my house as a Comtesse just like Varric promised.  
Leliana, Cassandra and I had officially named this place as a rebel headquarters. We frequently met downstairs in the library to solve our problems—without the infrastructure of the Inquisition.  
They might still be awake, if I were to go now, but that wouldn't do. I had already cried far too many tears over this man, and I would be damned if I cried any more.  
Yet he was my soul-mate, and I was tied to him for the rest of my life. Since I was immortal, I didn't really care how these years of my life would be spent. I loved him, and I would still shout it for the world to hear. Even if my heart was still in a thousand pieces.  
“No, that will not be necessary.” I said, turning to face Edward, “Has everyone arrived yet?”  
He shook his head, “Dorian, Cassandra, Leliana, Cullen, and Iron Bull are downstairs right now. Varric is dealing with Kirkwall’s problems, and he should arrive in the morning.”  
I sighed, leaning against the wall next to the mirror. We had all come together with new information, and Dorian had found something to…replace my missing arm.  
“Are they all downstairs?” I inquired, “Awake?”  
“Yes.” Edward said softly as he began to walk back toward the door. He held the wooden thing back, bowing and gesturing for me to go first.  
“Ladies first.” He grinned sheepishly. I wobbled across my room, punching him gently in the shoulder as I passed through the doorway. He had been the one to watch over me when Varric was busy tending to a healing Kirkwall, or when Leliana and Cassandra were out gathering information. Edward had truly become, what mortals called, a friend. That was a rare thing for my kind.  
The stairs were another problem altogether, and I felt myself tip forward. I instinctively reached with my left hand for the side rail, only to find that there was nothing to slow my fall. No arm to reach out with.  
I tumbled down the stairs, my dulled senses completely masking any amount of pain, and landed in a pair of warm, welcoming arms. I looked up to find Dorian with a huge grin on his face. The tevinter man still had his curly mustache—with almost as much sass as he—but now he had on the rich satin robes of a magister. Could he have gotten promoted while he was back home?  
“I never expected women to fall all over me this soon after arriving!” He joked, steadying me on my feet, “Are you quite alright, my dear?”  
I nodded, yawning as I did so. Same Dorian. Same olive skin and dark hair and horrible jokes. He was the perfect match for my blunt, know-it-all attitude.  
“Are you alright?” Hawke asked as he slid down the stair rail. He landed next to me, his blue eyes filled with a mix of mirth and worry.  
“She is a dragon, after all.” Dorian joked as he led me through the dimly lit entryway and into the library, “Tough one, at that.”  
I couldn't help but crack a smile. Dorian had been the second one to learn of my heritage, and he hadn't cared in the slightest.  
The others had, of course, taken a little longer to process and adjust. The Herald of Andraste, the Inquisitor, savior of Thedas was a dragon. A beast of the skies, terror in the flesh, was a legendary creature who could turn a man into ash without a second thought.  
I could remember the day they figured it out like it was yesterday.  
We had gone after a group of Venatori in an elven ruin somewhere in the Exalted Plains. The Tevinters fought well, but they fell to my fire and everyone else’s weapons and magic. A piece of the ruin wall fell from the force of a rival tevinter’s spell, leading us into a hall that had been almost completely sealed off. In the middle of the room rested a tall spire of pure gold that had me on edge.  
Tiles of every color depicted battles that had long been forgotten. There was one in particular that stood out, showing an elf with a golden blade, standing over the corpse of a dragon. My sharp intake of breath at the monstrosity that tile committed did not go unnoticed by Solas, but he did not inquire.  
He had stared with great interest at them all, which in turn interested me. The dragon one, specifically captured his attention. That conversation was the last one I had with him before he discovered what I truly was.  
“I wonder why he wields a blade of gold.” He had mused out loud, his voice bouncing in the small room.  
“Who knows?” I asked nervously. “Maybe it’s enchanted. Maybe that’s a family sword.”  
“You never say “maybe”.” Solas pointed out coyly. “Does your boundless knowledge abandon you lethallan?”  
“N-No, I just..” I stopped. Words would not make it better.  
I remembered stepping into the tile in front of the gold spire. It twisted, letting out a loud, shrill shriek that I knew only I had heard. A small shard of gold flew out of the spire and sliced through the full length of my forearm. I stared at Solas, who hadn't known what I was, as I fell to the ground.  
I had heard from everyone that Solas had swept me off the floor and rode both day and night to get me back to Skyhold. I was unconscious for days and no one could figure out what was wrong with me.  
Leliana sent for my father—who so happened to be a dragon stuck in human form— and he arrived two days later. He gave his magic and his life to take the poison from my body, and I had awoken to his final words, “Don’t let everything be the same to you, change—.” I never figured out what came after.  
Dragons could be poisoned by gold. I had never known, but that was as deadly as the blight to us. I knew that the spire had felt wrong, but I didn't know why. Since that day, gold being used on hilts, in swords, and in jewelry that was to be given to me was strictly prohibited. Josephine managed to keep the cursed metal out of my clothes, while Cullen and Leliana kept it from my weapons. On the surface, they had all claimed I had a severe “allergic reaction” to gold in any form.  
“Inquisitor!” Cullen said as I walked into the library, with Dorian and Edward at my heels.  
“I am no longer the Inquisitor, Cullen.” I said, smiling a pointy smile. He nodded, unfazed by the long canines revealed by my infectious smile.  
“Valentine, then.” He said, bowing his head. I bowed in return, turning my attention back to the people who surrounded the makeshift war table.  
This library was—and had always been—my hideout. Each wall was covered with a bookshelf that overflowed with books about everything: The Fade, Magic Theories, Orlesian Dances, and anything else I had acquired. The bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, covering the cream colored walls and allowing for wicked shadows in the firelight. There was one shadow over by the entry door that looked just like a wolf. I often sat beside it when I read, instead of in the chairs next to the desk or the war table— which was nothing more than a large table with a old, yellowed map of Thedas stretched across it.  
I wobbled over toward the war table, refusing the many chairs passed my way as I leaned into the dark oak. Two daggers stuck into the table: one in Minrathous, and the other in Antiva.  
I looked up at my friends, smiling at them all as I spoke, “How have you all been?”  
“Better, but the South is at piece. That is all I could ask for.” Cassandra said softly, her mahogany hair thrown into a rough braid that wrapped around the peak of her brow. The scar on her cheek had faded, and I wondered if she had noticed.  
“I have been kept busy with all the templars that seek redemption.” Cullen said as he stared at the table.  
“Tevinter is as charming as ever.” Dorian said, coming to stand next to me. I could feel his gaze on the dagger over Minrathous, and I wondered what they had all learned.  
“How are the Chargers, Bull?” I inquired.  
“Good, Boss.” He answered, “Plenty of nobles in Orlais need mercenaries, and they have some really deep pockets.” It was good that they were doing something. For a while after the disbanding of the Inquisition, Bull hadn't wanted to go work. He would never admit it, but I knew he missed all of us being together.  
“I have news, Vale.” Leliana said as her eyes met me. I had barely noticed her at the end of the table, studying the map. I nodded for her to go on, “Harding and Charter inform me that Solas plans to make his move soon. His troops have all moved North toward Tevinter. We believe that they plan to take Minrathous.”  
Dorian took in a sharp breath, “And Tevinter is weakened by the qunari. They won’t expect it, not with the war.”  
“What do we need to do?” I inquired.  
“Go to Minrathous and get you on Solas’ trail.” Leliana answered with a half smile, “But first, you will need an arm.”  
I stared down at my stump, not caring that I was still in a sleeveless grey nightgown that only went to my knees. Everyone here learned long ago that modesty did not have a place within the beliefs of a dragon, and now expected this sort of thing from me. I looked toward Dorian, only to find him heading toward the back part of the room toward a chest that hadn't been there when I’d walked in.  
He opened the wooden chest, revealing an arm that looked to be made of dragon-scales. It looked like a regular arm, but thrummed with magic.  
“Dagna managed to craft it out of dragon scales to keep it from burning when you channel magic through it.” Dorian said as he picked up the arm, “I hope that you enjoy it. This thing cost more than half of Val Royeaux.”  
I smiled at the jest as Cullen began to help him with the straps. I closed my eyes, waiting for the cold feel of metal inside the scales and listening for the contraptions placed inside to make it move.  
But nothing happened.  
I opened my eyes, finding the arm felt like new. Not my old one, of course, but a new limb. I moved it back and forth, finding its movements smooth, not mechanical like the last one they had made for me. I squeezed the fingers, finding that the scales emitted warmth instead of cold like metal.  
“Thank you.” I said to Dorian, throwing both arms around him. He hugged me back tightly, and I felt the relieved breaths of everyone around the room. I hadn't been very nice the last time they tried to get me a new arm, and they probably worried significantly how I would act this time.  
“Now to Minrathous.” I stated, rotating the arm around my shoulder.


End file.
